Here's One on Telling the Truth
by Moonrays and fridays
Summary: 'I could care less about being cool.' And it's true. Jess Mariano can tell the truth. Some of the time. Especially when he doesn't actually have to say anything.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _Hey guys, I know, I know, I shouldn't be starting something new when I still owe you a final chapter of my other literati fic. It is coming, I promise. I just need to reformat the entire story on the site because it's a mess. But soon! Anyway, this is a series of moments between my two favourite book geeks. There's a lot of fics where years later, Jess admits what happened with the swan, etc, but I want to chart their relationship and the little things he gives away. The next part will be about Rory's bracelet. Hope you like!_

_Friday_

_xx_

**Here's One on Telling the Truth**

They're sitting by the lake, because, hey, it's their place. A place where Luke isn't watching their every move and rustling in and out, and Lorelai isn't trying to make awkward conversation when really she hates him. They can just be quiet, together, apart. Whatever, wherever.

He's already sprinting through 'Twelve', new novel, young writer, and it fills him with this weird kind of warmth, something like hope. Inspiration, maybe. She's struggling through Bukowski at his request. Every few moments though, she gets distracted and looks over at him. She sighs again.

'What?' he doesn't look up from the page, but his lip quirks.

'Nothing.'

'Okay,' he shrugs, and carries on. She sighs again and he says nothing this time.

'Why can you read so much faster than I can?' She's frustrated, jealous even. He almost feels proud.

He rolls his eyes and lowers the book slightly, 'I can't really answer that, can I? Magic powers? Voodoo?'

'It's just annoying. You finish twice as many books as I do, in half the time.' She sits up straight and puts down the book, bunching her hands in her pockets.

'Oh jeez,' He realises it's truth time. He hasn't had many relationships that get to this point. But it's that 'opening up' crap that Luke's always banging on about. Saying something true. And he knows, with the few times he's lied already to protect her, to keep her thinking good things about him, maybe he should give her a few truths. He puts down the book, noting the number, folding the page, turning to face her, cross-legged.

'I didn't have books at home. Didn't have a library card. But city libraries are open late, and I used to just go there in my spare time. I knew I'd have to finish whatever book I started. Needing to know the end is a powerful incentive.'

She went to say something but instead settled for squeezing his hand in some sort of lame show of solidarity. Better not to say anything that means anything.

'I need to know the end,' she whispered.

'No you don't, you enjoy the journey, savour it. It's why you can stand all that flowery prose and description, and I just want it to get to the good stuff.'

She's suddenly worried it's one of those moments where you think you're talking about one thing, but actually you're talking about another.

'Are...are you still waiting to get to the good stuff now?' She's timid and stupid and why can't she ever just ask what she wants to ask. _Jess, do you want to have sex with me?_ What's so difficult about those words?

'What?' His fingers flick over the cover of the book, wanting to escape into that world again, conquer it, own it.

'With us?' She doesn't look at him.

'I...' Say the right thing for once, Mariano. Don't be cool about this, just say something that means something. 'This is the good stuff, isn't it? This, right here, you and me.' He quickly goes on, making his voice light and teasing, 'Just sitting on a bridge, when the light's going and we can't read. Making fun of Luke and making your Mum hate me. That's good stuff, right there.'

She knows she's been diverted, but he was kind and honest. Made her feel less worried.

'You know that wasn't what I was talking about Jess.'

'Huh, well then you're going to have to stop talking in code.' That smirk.

She rolls her eyes, somewhat comforted when he picks up his book again.

'You know, if you're talking about what I think you're talking about, then "good stuff" isn't going to be a good enough euphemism.' His eyes don't stray from the page.

She picks up her book. 'I'm not a slow reader,' she says defiantly.

'I know. And now I can take books home, so I'm in no rush to get to the end. In fact, I like to re-read them over and and over again.'

'And steal them from other people,' she grins.

'It's not stealing if the person you stole it from was to stupid to understand it,' he responds. For the briefest moment his eyes meet hers, and she quite likes this 'say one thing, mean another' language, when you're both talking about the same thing.

'Well, you definitely understand..._it_,' she nods, and hesitantly leans back on the dock, resting her head on his knee.

Sometimes, Jess Mariano can tell the truth. As long as he doesn't actually have to _say_ it.


	2. Chapter 2

They're almost horizontal on the couch, one of his arms around her, the other hand entangled with her own. His hand touches her wrist, and he pulls back.

'Hey, hold up a second,' He sits up and Rory looks at him, surprised, but slightly relieved. She never knows how far she can go with him, how far she wants to go.

'What's up?' He's still holding her wrist.

'We're together now, right?' His eyebrow quirks, making that horrible question that no-one wants to ask so much easier. What he's asking is _are you my girlfriend? _Rory feels a stupid little thrill, even though she'd been in a relationship for so long before, and had never felt like this. So..._attracted_.

'Yes, I mean, I think so, aren't we? Because if you'd rather not you've really gone to a lot of trouble to get me if you don't want me anyone. Was it all a game-' She rambles and he cuts her off.

'I want to be with you, word-a-minute. I just meant, isn't there some kind of rule where if you're with one guy, you shouldn't be wearing another guy's bracelet?'

She looks down at her wrist, Dean's present still there, cutting off circulation since that day she lost it.

'I forgot, I'd just got used to it,' she wrinkles her nose, and neither of them comment that perhaps that's what happened to Dean too. She was used to him.

'Well, maybe it's time to be free again,' he starts to untie the strands, and releases her, holding the bracelet out to her. They are silent for a moment.

'How symbolic,' Rory comments, and he cracks a small smile.

She strokes the bracelet softly, saying goodbye, and then puts it in her pocket.

'What are you going to do with it?' He asks, relaxing back against the couch and pulling her with him. It's easier to talk to her when he doesn't have to look at her. He's secretly terrified that disappointed look will grace her features, the same one that everyone else he's ever cared about has looked at him with at some point in his life. He doesn't want that from her.

'It'll return to the Dean Box,' she shrugs.

'Which is?'

'We broke up before, once. You put everything they gave you, everything you shared in a box, and you lock it away, until one day, when I'm old, much older, I can look back at it and smile. That's Mum's theory anyway.'

He smiles at Lorelai's never ending weirdness, and tries not to think about what his box will look like. What will she put in a box, what has he ever given her?

'I can't give you anything,' he doesn't mean to say it out loud.

'What?'

'He gave you a bracelet and I gave you a cast for a fractured wrist. He made you a car, and I wrecked it.'

'Again, symbolic,' she nods with a little smile.

His mind runs away for a moment. Not only would he not make her a car, he couldn't if he wanted to. He's from New York, for heaven's sake, they use the subway. No-one drives in the city unless they have to. And a bracelet? He's a guy, he doesn't have a sister, he doesn't know what girls like, beyond the obvious. He wants to please her, and how can he, when the Great Green Giant treated her like a porcelain doll? He's going to lose her now he's got her, he's just got to accept that she's going to see the real him soon enough. She'll be disappointed, better to just wait it out and hope for the best.

'Jess?' He's been silently glaring into space for a few seconds, and she puts a hand on his arm.

'You've got it wrong,' she says gently, 'he gave me a bracelet, you gave me notes in the margins. He gave me a car and you won me first prize in a snow-man making competition.'

His lips quirk up slightly, and he looks at her as she leans back in his arms, snuggling to get comfortable. He reaches into her pocket and pulls out this bracelet. It's not a problem, and yet it's caused enough of them.

'I had this,' he says, 'when you lost it, I had it. I put it back in your room.'

She sits up in surprise and stares at him.

'I didn't steal it,' he says defensively.

She shakes that thought away with a "well, duh" expression.

'You left it on the bridge after the basket festival thing, and I picked it up. I didn't know he'd given it to you.'

He sounds sad and she can't figure out why.

'I thought it'd be an excuse to see you, I'd had to shanghai you into sitting and talking with me, so I guess I was gonna hold the bracelet ransom or something?'

'You didn't have to shanghai me,' she says, 'I just had to deal with Dean.'

They don't say anything for a while, and she doesn't know what to say to make it better. Maybe this is why he never says anything about feelings, it's just uncomfortable. Awkward. Maybe she'd rather not know?

'I can't believe I took it off, the bracelet, when I was sitting with you. I never usually took it off. Ever.'

'Symbolic,' he says, that lip quirking again.

'Yes, symbolic,' she smiles up at him, and he notices that look in her eye, a new look, one that he brings out in her. 'You know, he may have given me a car, but there's something better you can give me.'

He knows the game and draws her to him, until they're almost horizontal once again. He's never going to make her a bracelet. And she's really, really glad.


	3. Chapter 3

His lips are warm, and the rest of her face is cold. It's a delicious combination. Her fingers itch to cling to his hair and pull her to him, but she's wearing those Snoopy mittens her mum bought, and starts to feel like maybe that's exactly why her mum bought them. Winter put too many layers of clothing between them.

'Hey,' she smiles, pulling back.

'Hey,' he grins, putting an arm around her as they walk around the town square at night. It's perfect, deserted, and the snow is thick and beautiful on the ground. Rory knows her mother wants to share this with her, she'd want her to run home and sit together with the windows open, smelling the snow. But she wants to share it with him. She wanders if that makes her selfish. Probably. She's surprised by how little she cares.

'Make a snowman with me,' it's an order, not a request.

'I don't make snowmen.'

'Is that in your personal manifesto?' She pulls a face at him, 'Yeah, now you mention it, I'm sure James Dean didn't make snowmen either. Not cool enough.'

'It's not a cool thing,' he rolls his eyes, 'I can just think of better things to do.' He kisses her again and she almost gives in. So warm.

'We can make it look like Johnny Rotten? Ooh, or Elvis! SnowElvis would be so cool!' She looks at him with such pure enthusiasm, that strange innocence that just floors him.

'Rory-' he sighs, knowing he's going to give in soon. Or that terrible truthful word-vomit will infect him again, and he'll tell her why he doesn't want to.

'Come on! Please?'

He decides to try a different tact, and pulls her close, hugging her so she can't see his face when her tells her the truth. She's going to pity him, and he freaking hates pity.

'I've never built a snowman' he whispers, and is shocked to find his voice wobbling with his admission.

She pulls back, and looks at him, not with pity but with wonder, trying to tell if he's telling the truth, if he wants to expand on it. She has a sudden vision of a small child with crazy black hair and a wide scowl, looking out of a crappy apartment window at the snow below.

'Did you ever play in the snow?' she asks quietly, a small smile fixed in place because she knows he'll get angry if she pities him. She's learnt that much.

'Well, me and some guys in the area got in a snowball fight with some Harlem guys. But, really, we were just lucky. If it hadn't been snowing, it probably would have been gunshots.'

Her eyes are really wide, pale blue grey in the white of the weather.

'You're joking' her hand clamps onto his.

'I'm exaggerating.'

She bites her lip because he never exaggerates. In fact, he usually downplays everything.

'Well then really, you need to thank the snow for saving your life,' her grin has returned, with something extra, something she's thinking about that makes her lip quirk, and he suddenly knows he's very lucky to have her.

She launches herself at him, pushing him back onto the ground, landing in the snow.

'Rory!' He screeches a little, too surprised to be angry.

'Don't move,' she's crouched on top of him like a wary mouse, still, and he's suddenly very aware of how warm she is, how close she is. She lowers herself down, so her arms are across his chest. She's using him as a lifeboat, not touching the snow.

'Now wave your arms up and down,' she orders.

Ror-'

'Shh!' She says seriously, put her fluffy mitten up to his lips, 'we're making a snow angel.'

He sighs audibly, looking up at her smiling face, and gives in. How can he not? He moves his arms up and down in the snow like a trapped chicken, and tries not to think about the cold water working its way through his coat and jeans.

He looks up at her, 'Happy now?'

Her face is unsure, uncomfortable, and he watches as her chest rises and falls quickly. She's...is that lust? She wants him and she's embarrassed. At least that's one situation he knows how to remedy without words.

He draws her down slowly until her legs intertwine with his, and kisses her. Sometimes, when he's spent what feels like afternoons just kissing her until she's limp and relaxed and unsure, her eyes look dark. Her lips are cold. He then decides to stop this before he can't stop this.

He rolls over until she's pinned under him, covered in snow.

'Jess!'

'Not so nice, is it? Laying in snow, cold and uncomfortable?' He raises an eyebrow.

'And now our snow angel's ruined.'

'Nah, she's just got character.' he replies, pulling her to her feet.

'Snowman?' she looks up hopefully, and he can't refuse, can he? He can try, but sometimes her silliness is infectious. Sometimes he just wants to go back to that time when he actually _wanted_ to play in the snow, before he learnt that he would just ruin stuff, that he'd screw everything up, as always, and Liz screamed at him when he asked. After that he just pretended snow was for losers. He has to admit though, that Harlem snowball fight was damn fun, if just for the danger.

She's like that sometimes. If he stands too close to her he feels like he'll melt. Maybe Dean wasn't that pathetic when they first started dating, maybe he just got sucked in, and became desperate to do everything for her. Because that's how Jess Mariano feels right at this minute. That he can't say no. That he'll never say no, and no matter how hard he fights, he can't care. He'll have to force himself to say no. He'll say no to that stupid firelight festival, and her grandparents' house, and a whole bunch of other stuff. Because as soon as he stops saying no, stops challenging her, she'll think he's just another Dean and become bored with him.

'Jess,' she snuggles up close to him, and when she whispers it's warm against his neck. 'We can steal the stuff for the snowman from Doose's.'

He looks at her, unconvinced, 'Really?'

'Well, you can make Taylor think you have.' She shrugs.

He can't help but smile. This crazy golden child of the town, this Gilmore girl, is the reason he's happy. He is, he's happy. Jeez. Sure, there's Luke, and working at the diner and Walmart and never getting out of this stinking crazy town. But it doesn't seem to matter so much. Wow. That's terrifying.

'Okay, but not Elvis,' he pretends to begrudge it, but hey, it's night in the square, and maybe it could be something ridiculous that would freak Taylor out. No-one else will see him having fun. 'Freddie Kruger?'

'Are we that talented?'

'Yes, yes we are.' He leads her to a patch of untouched snow and gestures, 'So how do we do this?'

She grins and crouches down, beckoning him, and after a few moments of rolling snow, he smiles at her.

'What?' she asks.

'You know, it's terribly dangerous to stay in cold wet clothes, you could catch your death of cold.' he mocks.

'So?'

'So, I happen to have a warm room just up there, where, after we make this masterpiece, you could come up and change, because I am very worried about your health.'

'Well, my mum certainly wouldn't want me to get sick. You got anything I could change into?'

'No,' he grins.

'Jess!'

'There's a Metallica t-shirt with your name on it,' he nods solemnly. She pauses for a moment.

'We could make the snowman tomorrow?' She suggests.

'Good plan.'

She slips off her mittens on the walk back to Luke's, so she can slip her fingers into the spaces between his. He puts their intertwined hands in his pocket, and for the briefest moment, she thinks he loves her.

And then he puts a snowball down the back of her shirt.


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Warning, warning, serious fluff alert. Sorry, this seems a lot more sappy than I originally meant, but I'm writing some serious other stuff and I needed a sentimental outlet! __You guys can probably guess what film they're talking about, but you can always ask in the review box if you really need help! (See what I did there!)_**

4.

'It's called compromising, Jess!' She wheedles, and he rolls his eyes.

'Seriously, I do _not_ wanna watch that movie.'

'Come on, have I ever been wrong before?' She crawls into his lap, and holds back on fluttering her lashes, but the pout starts to creep across her face. They're sitting in the Crap Shack, very much alone, but with the knowledge that Lorelai will be home soon enough. For some reason that he doesn't want to think about, Lorelai lets him stay past curfew if there are movies involved. The possibility that she's trying to give him a chance makes him very nervous. Enough rope to hang himself with. She's letting him stay late, so he'll try something with Rory. And she'll get upset. And go running back to Dean. And then Lorelai gets exactly what she wants. A Jess-less existence.

Or maybe she's a supportive mother who wants her daughter to be happy, whatever.

'You don't want me to answer that.'

Rory's momentarily distracted, and sits upright, causing him to be suddenly _very_ aware of how close she is.

'I'm not the one who's watched Almost Famous eleven times. It's time to grow, Jess. Come with me on this journey.' She looked at him very seriously. 'I'm not sure I can even contemplate being in a relationship with you if you don't love this movie.'

He bites his tongue to stop himself asking if Dean liked the movie. He often wondered if maybe Dean had been cool, pre-Rory. And then he remembered that the guy was everything he hated about small towns. He made her a car, he made her a bracelet. He was with her for two years and never even thought about having sex with her. Dean was an idiot.

But then again, maybe this compromise thing was part of all that relationship crap he needed to work on.

'Okay.'

'Okay?' She's excited again, scrambling off him to find the DVD.

'Hey, wait a minute, you said this was a compromise.' He looks at her seriously.

'Ye-es, I did...' She looks wary.

'So, what's in it for me?'

She looks at him in this way that he's starting to get used to, amusement, edged with lust and disguised by affection. It's not quite that big cheesy grin, or that scared Bambi face when she gets too close to him and doesn't know how to stop. It's...well, she might, she could...

He won't think the words, even in his own head it seems ridiculous to get his hopes up. He's not going to kid himself that this is forever; this girl is a high-flyer. Harvard, Yale. Wherever, whatever. She'll get bored of him when she gets out of this town, when she sees how big the world is. When she's crawling around trenches and running for her life. But for now, she's his, just his, and she wants him, and he can make her feel something she never has before. His experience, whilst not plentiful, is more than hers. And she wants that. From him.

'I'll make it up to you,' she purses her lips to keep from smiling, 'but I swear, you'll be thanking me when you watch this.'

'Just put the damn DVD on, I'll get plates for the burgers.' He moves quickly, bringing out tortilla chips, dip, Luke's burgers and marshmallows. Disgusting? Yes, but he knows her. And chips were preferable to fries. Reheated french fries_ suck_.

'As you wish,' she shouts from the living room.

They settle on the floor, the food laid out on the coffee table, and he knows to be as silent as possible whilst watching a movie she deems this holy. And yet he can't help himself at the opening scene.

'Jeez, eighties much?'

'Shh!' She jabs him in the ribs, and he takes the opportunity to catch her arms, keep her close.

The movie doesn't suck, in fact, he enjoys it. He gets why, if she watched it as a kid, she would still love it. He experiences that around her more and more these days, this nostalgia for his childhood. She's still so much younger than him, she's kept hold of all those childish things she loved. But when he starts thinking about it, he gets so mad at Liz that he can't breathe. So he just pretends that it's for the best, that he can't change, no-one can change who they are, and hey, at least Rory likes him.

He almost laughs a few times, but tries to hold it in. He doesn't know why he can't just let her win. She told him he'd like it, and he does. But if she wins, then she knows him, and if she knows him, and then she leaves...well, he's gotta start preparing for that, hasn't he?

He's been thinking too much about this, lately. About her going to college, about what's left for him in Stars Hollow once she's gone. About Walmart and the diner and Luke, and how he'll feel, stuck in this stupid town alone, and how one day she'll come back, all embarrassed, bringing her new college boyfriend. And he'll still be there, working at Walmart.

The more he thinks, the less he says. And at some point he's going to burst.

The movie runs to the end, and as soon as she switches it off, she pounces.

'Soooo? Come on, you like it, I know you do,' she's eager, and he waits for his moment, chewing nonchalantly and shrugging.

'Liked the book better.' He says, enjoying the look of shock on her face.

'You've read the book.' She states, then tries again, 'You've read the book?'

'Yes, and it's a lot more fleshed out, not sure what he was doing with that whole "I didn't write this, really" thing, though.' He smirks.

'Of course you read the book, you're so...' She's confused.

'...charming? Creative? Well-read?'

'...Jess.' she shrugs.

'Yes, that's definitely one thing I am,' he nods sarcastically.

'So why did you put up such a fight? Did you think the movie would be a disappointment compared to the book?' She stretches and yawns like a cat, and moves up to the couch, pulling him with her.

'No.'

'Then why?'

He shrugs and smiles.

'You do this just to annoy me, don't you?'

'Just keeping it interesting.' He protests, smiling irritatingly.

'Things don't have to be interesting all the time.' She insists, crossing her arms and sighing, but he watches her eyes widen as he moves to kiss her. As long as he keeps her guessing, keeps surprising her, she can't leave. Can't get bored of him. She's addicted to spontaneity. Probably because she's never done anything bad or surprising or anything other than what's expected of her.

She pulls back, and catches her breath, looking up at him sweetly, 'Hey Jess, can I borrow the book?'

His lips twitch up at the sides, but he can't look her in the eyes and instead leans forward until their lips are an inch apart.

'As you wish,' he smirks.


	5. Chapter 5

They're in the diner. He's leaning back against the coffee machine, reading. She's perched on a stool on the customer's side, with her own book, trying to drink coffee without taking her eyes from the page.

Luke looks on, bemused, but hey, they're not upstairs alone, they're not having sex and they're not fighting. Pick your battles. He carries on chatting with Caesar, and refilling coffee cups. It's a slow day.

Rory tries to take a sip of coffee and misses her mouth.

'Aw, crap!'

Jess merely rolls his eyes and throws her a napkin, 'I thought you were supposed to be a pro.'

'Well, something almost happened in between the endless descriptions of manly things, so I got overexcited!' She sighs sarcastically.

'I can't believe you didn't keep our bargain,' he smirks.

'I'm sorry, but Hemmingway just hurts!' She shakes her head, then smiles down at the pages, 'Besides, I've got you now, I don't need to read books to impress you.'

This intrigues him, the idea that she needs to impress _him_, of all people.

'I'm sorry, was the whole reading thing a clever ruse to seduce me? How very smart of you.' He says mockingly, 'You're right, it could only be your opinions on Checkov that made me like you, what else could there be?'

She blushes, and he tilts his head. There's something else.

'What?' He leans forward on the counter.

'It was my connection with you, it's something I have with you that I don't have with anyone else. It was how I...'

She trails off and he makes a gesture for her to continue.

'Okay, so I'm a girl, and when you're a girl, you find a reason to talk to the boy that you like, and once you've found something in common you can use it so that it doesn't get awkward.' She rambles, looking flushed, and takes a large gulp of coffee.

'Did you read that in Cosmo?' He grins.

'No, Cosmo suggested Keats, Checkov was too much for them.' She makes a face.

'I still have no idea what you're talking about.'

She rolls her eyes like he just doesn't get it. He's such a boy.

'Look, it's very simple. As long as I didn't finish Hemmingway, we had something to talk about when we bumped into each other. If I finished Hemmingway, the bond was broken, the joke ended.'

He just stares at her, this crazy girl who is smarter than almost everyone he knows. Seriously, girls are strange.

'So you _do_ like Hemmingway?'

'No, I think he's dire.'

'Then why are you reading him now?'

'Because I told you I would. You know I like you now, it doesn't matter if I finish the book.'

Jess falls back against the counter in exhaustion.

'Ror, did you possibly consider the fact that if you finished the book, we could have discussed it, and that would be talking?'

'Well yeah, and then what? We'd discuss Hemmingway, and then I'd still hate him, and you'd still like him, and we'd carry on as before.'

Jess Mariano was not particularly adept with women. Or with people, to be brutally honest. And whilst he considered Stars Hollow to be a write-off, with the majority of people being completely mad, he didn't think his girlfriend was one of them. Until now.

'I...I don't even know what to say.'

'Jess,' she sighs, ever patient, 'It's girl-logic, don't worry about it. You know the thing that makes teenage girls call and hang-up on the boy they like, that's what this is. Completely irrational, but comforting, okay? Now, refill please!' She holds out her mug for more coffee.

He fills up her drink, shrugs and rolls his eyes, and they both return to their books.

And then he thinks.

'Hey, you never called me and hung up.' He points out.

She doesn't even look up from the pages, 'I always wanted to talk to you.'

He presses his lips together to avoid smiling too broadly, and decides he doesn't really mind that he doesn't get how Girl World works. He also remembers, that if he finished _The Fountainhead_, she offered to make it up to him. And he is still owed. It's those thoughts that suffice when she's sitting across from him in her stupid school uniform, or when she kisses him the way she does and then runs home. Innocent, beautiful girl. And he's broken, he knows. But, he's a reader. His redemption, his addiction. And hers.

That night the phone rings, and he picks it up.

'This is me phoning and hanging up,' she says, and puts down the phone.

Jess Mariano smiles, and returns to his book.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Merry Xmas y'all. Hope you enjoy this little bit of Luke/Jess communication. Been rewatching series three over the holidays. So good!**

_'...oh yeah, this is a message for Jess.'_

Okay, so he'd agreed to delete his messages without listening to them first. But really, it hadn't been so much of a nod of agreement as a raised eyebrow, and a good enough understanding of his girlfriend to refrain from smirking.

Was the message funny as hell? Yes. Did he secretly enjoy when Rory got all worked up and rambled herself into a state of distress? Well, yes, but usually only because he got to calm her down. And his ways of calming were usually very enjoyable. But did he feel like crap? Well, a little.

So Jess Mariano sits at the kitchen table, his ears still ringing slightly from the concert, and listens to the message again. _I plan to go on being spoiled._ Yes, he supposes she does. And he should be so damn pleased to have her, that he should act like Dean used to, right? He should call when he says he will. He should get a cell phone, and a pager, and be available at all times. Except, then, she'll get bored of him. He knows she wants him most when his attention is on a book and not her. Is it time to change, for a girl?

Luke walks through the apartment door, and promptly has a heart attack.

'Jeez! Jess, what the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?'

He turns the lights on, and gets a beer from the fridge.

'Jess, hello? Anybody home?' Jess shrugs in response, and walks through to sit on his bed.

Luke goes to check the answer machine, expecting a call from Nicole. It's a recent thing, his checking his messages. He never used to have them before. He starts to think he's having a life now, moving on. It's not particularly as fulfilling as he'd hoped.

_ 'It's me. I just wanted to let you know that this is the last weekend I sit around like an idiot, hoping you'll call. Okay? I'm not going to be that girl...' _

Rory's voice fills the room, and whilst Jess quietly mutters 'oh jeez' to himself, Luke puffs himself up and prepares for the inevitable fight.

'Jess! Get in here! What the hell did you do?'

He lifts himself off the bed, throws himself into the chair.

'This is none of your business Luke, leave it.'

'It concerns Rory. It's my business.'

'Yeah, and we all know who it is you'd rather look out for. Rory's the kid you always wanted, the perfect child, the one who was always in your life and comes first.'

_Wow, where the hell did that come from? _He wonders to himself, but gives himself a second to enjoy the look of shock and guilt on Luke's face.

'Jess, you know that's not-'

'It's fine, I don't know why I mentioned it.' He pops a Red Bull, even though he'll be wired all night and has to open the diner tomorrow. But what the hell, it's not like he'll be sleeping anyway.

'Jess,' Luke tries a gentler tone, and sits opposite his nephew at the kitchen table, 'what's going on?'

'I didn't call Rory because I was working, and by the time I finished it was too late. She didn't say anything, until that explosion on the machine. I just spent the whole evening with her, and she didn't say anything!'

'Yeah, well apparently Lorelai's loony tendencies have been rubbing off,' he pauses, 'so she was just waiting at home all night for you?'

'I didn't know that!' he protests, 'She's got so much other stuff going on, I just figured she wouldn't notice. She's got school, and college and Lane and Lorelai and Paris, and newspaper stuff.'

'Well, she obviously makes time because she wants to spend it with you.'

'Why? What do I have? Walmart, and working here, and her. That's it.'

Luke pulls a hand across his tired face, and sighs.

'Well Jess, what do you want? Because you've never told me, you've never told anyone. You don't want to work on a newspaper, you certainly don't want to spend your time at school, or on school work. And you think everyone in this town your own age besides Rory is a basketcase. You might be right, but still.'

He pauses briefly, to make sure Jess is paying attention, and hasn't wandered off to read a book or something.

'Jess? Jess!' His nephew looks up, frowning.

'What?'

'If there is something you want, something more than this, then tell me, so I can help. You know, I will do everything I can, and give you everything I have. If you want to go to college, or night classes, or get a better job. I will help, that's all I've ever tried to do! I know, I do it badly, but I'm tryin' here. But I can't read your mind.'

Jess shakes his head, and shrugs.

'There's nothing you want?'

Jess briefly considers throwing back a glib comment, about wanting beer, or more money, or not having to work in a lousy diner. But he thinks this is the first time an adult has been on his side, even if it is just Luke.

'I don't know yet.'

'Do you know what you don't want?'

'I want to go back to New York, I want my own apartment, I want to travel. I want Rory. So far, that's pretty much it.' He doesn't look up as he admits this.

'Sounds good for so far. I'll try and help.'

'I know,' Jess admits grudgingly, 'Hey Luke, why are you still here? You think this town is as loony as I do, right?'

'I...it's nuts, and I hated it growing up. But my Dad died, and the shop was there, and Liz had run off to god-knows-where, and Mum needed someone. And then, well, I was going to leave. Luke's was doing well, I had offers to sell it, but different things happened, things change.'

Jess' trademark smirk starts to reappear slowly, but it's soft around the edges. Luke thinks he may be seeing Jess Mariano actually smile. He knows he's still being mocked, but there's something...

'She turned up, didn't she?'

'Who?' Luke says too quickly.

'And suddenly, it didn't seem so bad here anymore.' His nephew raises an eyebrow.

'You don't know what you're talking about.'

'Yes...I do. More than anyone. Jeez Luke, just, don't wait too long, will you?'

'Well, maybe I should start dating someone I don't really care about just to get her attention and make her jealous, right? Worked for you, Casanova.' He says sarcastically.

Jess just raises an eyebrow. Wait for it...wait for it...

'I am NOT doing that with Nicole!' Luke fumes, and downs the last of his beer, before throwing the bottle away.

They sit in silence for a moment, neither really willing to carry on talking, but sure that the conversation isn't really over.

'So...what do I do about...that?' Jess points at the answer machine.

'Didn't you take her to a concert tonight?'

'Yeah, but it was a surprise.'

'But because of last night she thought...'

'Yeah, I guess,' Jess sighs to himself, 'I never gave a damn about this kinda stuff normally. I am who I am and if she doesn't like it...'

'But it's Rory.'

'It's Rory.'

They sit in silence for a moment.

'I could get you a cellphone? Would that help?'

'Yeah, I guess...'

'I know you don't like 'em. But you could use it to let Rory know specific times between shifts. And your work could get hold of you easier. You don't have to give me the number if you think I'd be bugging you all the time.'

'That's ridiculous.'

Luke shrugs.

'Thanks, that'd help.' Jess says eventually. 'I never felt like an ass so much before.'

'You did, you just didn't care.' Luke has a smirk of his own.

They sit quietly a moment more before nodding and heading in opposite directions. But that night, when Luke sits and watches the game on the TV, Jess sits on the couch too, book in hand. And in the morning, he gets up on time, and opens, without saying anything rude, or sarcastic. And in the evening he calls Rory, and makes a date for seven o'clock. On the dot. It still freaks him out, but maybe, just maybe, it's worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

It's a quiet evening at Luke's, and Jess is absentmindedly wiping tables, trying to look busy enough that Luke doesn't try to get him to do anything else. Lorelai is looking jittery, irritable, and Jess knows that Rory must be running late.

He leans behind the counter as Luke walks over to Lorelai, and wonders once again why his uncle doesn't just take a chance. Lorelai doesn't have a boyfriend, does she? She cares about Luke, if that little speech she made to him when he first arrived meant anything. And Luke, well Luke is pretty much whipped. He will drop anything for her, go running, protect Rory, pack his own nephew off on a bus...well, no, Jess supposes, maybe not anything. He knows Lorelai asked Luke to send him home, and he didn't.

Jess one, Lorelai zero.

'What's up with you?' Luke asks her.

'Oh, nothing,' she tries to pass it off, waving her hands around, 'I'm just here, waiting for Rory, you know...and I just ran into Max.'

'Medina?' Luke seems surprised.

'I hear he was a really great guy,' Jess smirks as he walks passed, handing Kirk his food.

Lorelai glares, 'My daughter is a blabbermouth.'

'Or just really respects English teachers,' Jess shrugs, taking this interaction as a cue to stand around awkwardly next to Luke, as if he can be part of this conversation.

'Especially ones that I agree to marry and then run away from at high speed at the last minute.'

Lorelai slams her head down on the table, 'Luke?'

'Yeah?'

'Can I have a burger? And curly fries, and a milkshake, and no salad, and could you maybe make something on the plate into the shape of a smiley face? I think I really need a smiley face right now.' She does not lift her head.

'Got it.' Luke walks off, smiling sadly to himself. Is he sad Lorelai feels bad? Yes, of course, they're friends. Is he damn glad she isn't marrying that 'really great guy'? Hell yes.

Lorelai lifts her head, and squints in confusion at Jess.

'You're still here.'

'I kind of wanted to talk to you,' he shrugs, hands in pockets, then gestures to the seat, Rory's seat, 'Can I?'

'Okay, but I'm telling you right now, I try to be a cool Mum and everything, but I swear to God if you mention sex or drugs or underage drinking, or -'

'Lorelai-'

'Oh God, Rory's not pregn-'

'Lorelai-'

'You're not getting married, I don't care what my mother says-'

Jess has decided that he's going to adopt a Luke response to this. Just sit, and listen to the crazy, let it wash over him, almost like concern. She can't actually believe he's knocked up her daughter? If they'd had sex, Lorelai would have been the first person Rory told. And he knows that. And Lorelai knows that. Which is why she's staring at him.

'Sorry, wigged out there.'

'It's cool.' He shrugs.

'So, this non-terrifying thing you wanted to talk to me about?'

He hands her a piece of paper, 'I was just wondering if you'd check Rory's bookshelves for these.'

'She stolen them from you?' They both smile at the same time, and wonder if the world has imploded.

'I wanted to get them for her, but I want it to be a surprise. If you feel like you're snooping, don't worry about it, I'll take a chance-'

'And come down the chimney?'

'-buy them anyway.'

A brief stand-off follows, where she's gone for the low-blow, but hey, so has he, so many times before. Okay, maybe this is one of those times Luke was talking about, making an effort, doing the right thing.

'Lorelai, I know I was an ass when I came here, I still am an ass a lot of the time. But Rory likes me, and I'm making an effort now. The stealing your beer? Okay, dumb, and I was pissed off and stupid, but that was a long time ago. The bracelet? No I didn't steal it, yes I found it, and it was Rory's and I kept hold of it, so I could see her again. I didn't know Dean made it. The car accident, well there's no getting around that except that you know I care about Rory and would never try and hurt her. Anything else, or can we move on?'

Lorelai Gilmore was very rarely speechless. But Jess Mariano very rarely said that many words in one go.

'O...kay then.'

They sit in silence for a few seconds, and Luke brings over her food. He eyes Jess warily.

'What did you do?'

'Nothing!'

'What did he do?'

'Said more than five words continuously, I may die of shock.' Lorelai offers. Luke huffs and walks away, muttering.

'So this tough-guy thing, it's an act?' She ventures gently, picking at her fries.

He looks confused and so young for a moment that she actually regrets how she first reacted to him. She's pretty sure Luke doesn't even know the half of what Jess has been through, and he knows his sister. Lorelai has no idea, but she thinks it was probably more than he deserved, more than he should have had to handle by himself.

'She makes me better,' he says hoarsely, and shrugs, 'Rory, she makes me smile and laugh and before...I can't really remember laughing.'

'She's good like that.'

'You said to Luke, that it was about time for Rory to go for someone like me,' he smirks to himself at the surprise on her face, 'and I am having a damn hard time trying to be that person for her, and the person she's making me.'

'Okay, you've lost me.'

'The Jolly Green Giant gave her everything she wanted.'

'Dean?'

'And she got bored of him. She wants excitement and unpredictability and someone who doesn't give in all the time.'

'So you're..._challenging_ her?'

He shrugs.

'You're trying to _teach_ her.'

He shrugs again, and Lorelai pushes her plate towards him in offering, 'Fry?'

'Thanks.'

They sit in silence for a little longer, until Lorelai says, 'I'm glad we had this chat, and I'll let you know about the books.'

He nods, an uncomfortable look crossing his face, until Rory comes bounding in, and then stops.

'Did I walk in on the Geneva convention or something? Is this a summit?'

Lorelai and Jess glance at each other, this conversation will never be mentioned.

'You were late, and Luke made me play crazy-lady babysitter,' he stands, gesturing for Rory to sit down, 'you want some food?'

'No, I'll just steal Mum's.' She kisses him briefly, and sits down to chat away with Lorelai, as he retreats to behind the counter, watching over his book.

'Mum? Mum, you look really confused,' he hears Rory remark.

'Huh,' Lorelai replies.


	8. Chapter 8

_AN: Set during 'Dear Emily and Richard' (when Sherry has the baby). Just a quick note, luvtheheaven pointed out that because I'm English and write 'Mum' instead of 'Mom', it may seem like I'm trying to make these characters sound English. I can understand how that would be a problem, so sorry if it causes any confusion. But I'm English, and this is the language I write in. I'm not going to switch it around._

_Hope it doesn't stop any of you from enjoying the story!_

**Here's One on Telling the Truth. **

**Part 8**

'So, you've got a sister...' he starts, watching for her reaction. He can never tell why Rory never gets pissed about anything. Her Dad was a deadbeat, the same as his. She never seems to be angry at him. Maybe because he was around some of the time? But surely that's worse than never knowing at all, worse than having all the kids laugh at you because you don't know who to make a card for on Father's Day. So you just stop. Every year after that Jess Mariano decides he'll throw glitter at people and laugh at their cards. One year he rigs a sheet to the ceiling and glitter falls down like mardi-gras. Not bad, for a sixth-grader.

'Yeah. Gigi.' She smiles a little, and he nudges her a little. They're at the bridge again, even though he thinks it's stupid, because it's cold, and he'd much rather be breaking Luke's rules about who gets to sit on the couch. But he found her here, and she wouldn't move.

'What's she...like?' He has no idea what to ask, but she doesn't seem to need him to. He takes her gloved fingers, and she smiles sadly again.

'She's a baby, she looked like a baby.'

They sit in silence again, and he's about to say they head back to Luke's, or he's leaving. What's the point, if she obviously wants to be alone?

'Ror, help me out, please, I'm dying here.'

She looks up at him, and her lip quirks.

'What?'

'What do you want me to do?'

'Do?'

He raises his arms in frustration, 'do you need me to fix something? Do want me to get you a pint of ice cream and rent a movie, what?'

'You just said it's freezing, why would I want ice cream?'

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow, 'You're you. You've never said no to ice cream.'

She shrugs in acknowledgement.

'I'm just sad, is all.'

He nods, _finally, we're getting somewhere_. So now, he just had to get her to expand on that. Where was the Rory Gilmore who never stopped talking? And where was the Jess Mariano that was comfortable with silence? Oh crap, she'd broken him, hadn't she? He'd got so used to the incessant noise, the fact that someone wanted him to know about their day, to give their opinion and be apart of it, that he'd fall apart now. Crap.

'I'm happy for my Dad and everything, but really, just...'

'What? What?'

'Sometimes, I really...I really..._hate_ him.' Her eyes widened in shock, 'No, no, I didn't mean that! I'm just disappointed sometimes.'

He puts an arm round her, drawing her close, and feels a little selfish that it's as much to make him feel better as her.

'It's okay to hate him. He deserves it.'

'Hate's a strong word.'

'So's abandonment.'

They think about this for a while.

'Do you hate your dad?' She asks, expecting him to abruptly change the subject, or just refuse to reply altogether.

'You can't hate someone you never knew. I hated Liz, though.'

'Why?'

Rory, sweet Rory, can't imagine anyone hating their own mother. She leans closer to him, wanting to make up for how he feels. Wanting to convince him otherwise. But also, just wanting him. He's broken, she thinks, and she can make him better. He knows she thinks this, and he realises he's a bit of a 'fixer upper'. Second-hand, broken down, like that car of his.

'Because she was there, mainly.' He stops and thinks about it, 'No. Because she was there and she didn't want to be.'

She recalls the only other time he's mentioned his mother, that sleigh ride, long before they got together, just after that jittery feeling started in her stomach. After that irritation settled into something that made her fingers go numb and her head spin, and little dramas played out in her head just before she went to sleep. The first time Jess told her anything real. And she didn't believe him.

'Was she a bad mother?'

He shrugs, monosyllables back again 'How'd you define 'good'?'

She shrugs, and leans her head against him shoulder, and he starts to think there's some benefits to talking about this crap that he'd rather forget.

'What about your dad?' He asks, 'Was he a bad dad?'

'They were meant to get back together, a while ago. Mum was so happy. And he promised, he _promised _it would be different, we'd all be a family. But then Sherry was pregnant with the baby, and he went back to her. To be a real family with them.'

'I'm...sorry.' Was that the right thing to say, he wonders. Is that what you say? He'd rather tell her she's better off without a deadbeat dad, that she's got everyone she needs, that anyone who meets her would do anything for her. She doesn't need him, she doesn't need anyone.

'Hey, we're alright.' She snuggles in closer, and he realises what she means. This is the only thing they have that's the same. The young mothers, the missing fathers. They both have Luke. But she has a mother who won't let her kid be anything but destined for greatness. He has one that would rather not deal with him. 'We turned out okay.'

'Better than Gigi will.' He states, and she tilts her head up, smiling.

'The name? I know.'

He smiles, a soft, lazy smile that she knows so well. It's a smile he relaxes into when he knows he's done exactly the right thing, had the perfect idea, kissed her just so. Little boy who caught a fish three times the size of him.

'Nah, she's got you to compete with. And who could live up to that?'

He kisses her, gently, and she's pretty sure she could love him. She's sure that Lorelai's track record with running when things get tough, and Christopher's never being able to run towards them, none of that will affect who she dates, who she trusts, who she loves.

'I do _not_ want to have babies, though. Yuck, do you _know_ what happens?' She laughs to herself and stands up, reaching down a hand for him.

'When they're being made or being born?' He smirks, and takes her hand as they walk from the bridge back to town.

'Oh, gross. Completely inappropriate.'

'I see this "being at the birth" thing is going to set me back weeks.' He pretends to look downcast.

'Oh yes, months, years even.' She kisses him, and he can feel her smiling.

'I blame your dad.'

'Me too,' she nods, certainly, 'I deserve to blame him for something.'


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **_Hello, me again. Sorry the updates are sporadic, they happen when I'm avoiding other work. Hope you enjoy, this one's rather long._

_Friday_

He's actually waking up in the middle of the night over this thing. He's actually...well, the word isn't nervous, because like hell is that going to happen. He doesn't remember the last time he felt nervous. Actually, that's a lie. He remembers exactly when it was, and how it forced him into shaky, jumpy movements, and the desperate need to get a girl a soda so he wasn't standing there like an idiot.

It's going to go badly. And just as he's starting to get secure in how they are together, the way they fit quite nicely, how she'll tease and flirt, how he'll scowl and kiss her, and everything will be alright...it's a shame it has to end, really.

He hears Luke snoring from across the room, and decides it's time to get out. He's had years of practice getting stealthily into and out of rooms. Lorelai probably thinks it's burglary. Rory thinks it's girls' houses. It's actually just years of avoiding Liz, perfectly timing his escape with her drunken excitement over her latest squeeze, or knowing exactly when she doesn't want him around.

He pulls on a sweatshirt, creeps downstairs, unlocks and re-locks the door, and makes it all the way to the bridge before he realises he hasn't brought a book. He very much does not want to sit and just stare at the light reflecting on the water. He remembers the last time he did that, too. It also involved shaky, jumpy movements, and the desperate need to leave this little town, so that girl didn't get hurt. Well, anymore than she already had.

Considering how much he tests her, forces her into doing things, tries to get her to loosen up, the thing he's scared of most is hurting her. No, a little voice at the back of his mind whispers, that's not true. _The thing you're most scared of is her thinking you're a loser, of seeing what everyone else sees, of seeing the disappointment in her eyes_.

He thinks back to all those times Liz looked at him in despair, after he cut his hand trying to open a tin of spaghettios, after a kind-looking policewoman brought him home, after finding him at the bus station when he was ten, intent on finding his dad.

He supposes he and Lizzy deserve each other, really. At least when you're used to it, the disappointment isn't so bad. And now Rory. Rory who looks at him like he's brilliant, like she can't believe that someone like him ended up in Stars Hollow, that he came back for her. His own personal pom pom brigade, waving the banner, so sure he can do anything.

Well, he knows one thing he can't do. He can't sit in a massive house in Hartford, across from a woman who is blackmailing her daughter and granddaughter to spend time with her, and eat a nice meal. He just can't. And he said he would. For the first time in his life, Jess Mariano thinks, someone actually made him do something he didn't want to.

Sure, he told Luke he was pissed to end up in Stars Hollow, and he is, but the friends he left weren't real friends, and getting away from Lizzy is like breathing. Breathing quietly. Luke may be in bed by nine, and only really care about baseball scores, annoying Talyor, and Lorelai Gilmore, but it's quiet. There's no screaming, no moving from place to place. Luke will never leave.

Jess wishes he had a cigarette, just for something to do. It looks less like loitering that way. He wanders when he started giving a damn about what stuff looks like. The bridge creeks, and he's ashamed to say his heart jumps to his throat and he inhales sharply in shock. He's been out of the city too long.

'It's late,' she says, and sits down next to him, automatically linking her fingers with his.

'It is. Why are you up?'

'Felt bad,' She sighs and leans into him. 'I hate when Grandma does this.'

'What?'

'Takes over my life like this. And I always fall for it. I don't fight it. Mom fights it.'

'You ever tried fighting?'

She considers for a minute, and knows there must be one instance, multiple instances, but they all fall to the back of her mind, because she knows, every time, she calls Lorelai to come rescue her, after she's already said yes. That way, Lorelai stays the bad daughter, and she remains the good granddaughter. They like to play their little roles.

She closes her eyes briefly, resting her head on his shoulder. He wonders if she saw him walking, if she ran out suddenly. Her pajama bottoms have smiling unicorns on, and she's wearing a Harvard Jumper. He wonders if the universe is playing a massive joke on him, if they could be any less compatible.

'She always wins,' She says to herself, and then opens her eyes suddenly, 'I'm glad you don't always let me win.'

He raises an eyebrow at her, 'It doesn't feel like that at the moment.'

'Well, then I'm glad you fight me on stuff.'

'Trust me, as long as you continue to force me to do stuff I don't want to do, I will always fight you on it.'

Her smile starts off innocent, but she presses her face into his neck, and the tone of her voice drops as she almost breathes the words, 'But I always provide encouragement.' She bites his neck gently, and he almost thinks he's imagined it. His arm tightens around her.

'Bribing me, you mean? Yes, you're pretty good at that.'

He kisses her briefly, unsure of what she's offering, and what trap he's walked into now.

They sit in silence for a while, him wondering what he's meant to say, her hoping she can find a way to get out of dinner tomorrow.

'You know I'm going to screw this up, right?' He says seriously, looking at out the water. In the distance he can see a brief sliver of white, and wonders if there are ducks still swimming about in the dark.

'Meeting Grandma, you mean?'

'Amongst other things.' He pulls her closer, gripping tighter, eager to show her he doesn't want to screw it up, it's just his coding, genetic or upbringing, whatever. He's destined to ruin this thing, they better not get too comfortable pretending.

'There's no way meeting Grandma can go right. The only reason she liked Dean was because Grandpa hated him so much, she had to pick a different side.'

'Do we have to mention the Big Friendly Giant, right now? I don't make a good first impression. I don't make a good impression in general.'

'Because you're bad, from the wrong side of the tracks, a menace to society...' She sticks her tongue out at him.

'Fine, laugh if you wanna, but even if I tried my very hardest, which I'm not saying I will, by the way, she is never, in a million years, going to like me.'

'Why?'

He rubs his face with one hand, and tries not to laugh at her. 'Rory, be serious.'

'I am, why wouldn't she like you?'

She's got that determined look that he usually finds quite endearing when she's focusing on getting Luke to give her the last piece of pie, or hunting down a page in a book that he's just quoted from. But right now he hates it, because it's going to be the moment where she realises he's just worthless. That look of disappointment that he's known for inspiring is about to grace her delicate features in a moment.

'I have no direction, I have no money, I am not high society, I don't do everything you want. I am pretty pissed off at being summoned to her mansion because she decides she wants to know everything about your life. And lastly, simply because she didn't pick me.'

He really wishes he had a cigarette, and doesn't look at her face for fear of what he'll see. He's a coward, he knows it.

'That is ridiculous,' Rory's voice is louder than it should be, and he's part relieved, part irritated she's about to embark on her 'Go Team Jess' speech.

'Of course I know she's not going to like you, Jess. Why do you think I feel so guilty for making you go to this thing? She's going to be rude, condescending, and manipulative. She's going to try and make me break up with you. She's going to possibly suggest a whole bunch of disgustingly upper class boys with rich parents who work in banking. But that's not the point!'

He thinks one of them has lost their mind, and he's pretty sure it's her.

'What's the point?' He asks.

'Her not liking you has nothing to do with **you**, idiot! When I asked why she wouldn't like you, I expected you to reply with "because she's a snobby bitch' or something, not with a list of reasons you suck!'

He really doesn't have anything to say to this, partly because if he hadn't been so honest, he would have just called her Grandma a bitch, and the whole thing a waste of time. But he thought she wanted honesty, truth, intimacy, all that stuff.

'I like you,' she strokes his face, and he has trouble looking at her, all that affection in her eyes, 'You're different from everything else, everyone else.'

His mouth automatically twitches up at this, but he covers it with a smirk, 'that's because you live in Stars Hollow. The sane people stand out here.'

She rolls her eyes, and realises the 'sharing' part of this conversation is over. They could start up one of their make-out sessions that will make her breathless and desperate, and not really sure what her body wants, but she'll have trouble sleeping, and she knows she should get back soon. Instead, they just move as close as they can to each other, intertwined, connected. Warm.

'I was thinking about all the stupid things I've done when Grandma got involved,' she pauses, 'You know I went to a coming out ball? No gay jokes please,' she regards him seriously, and he shrugs, admits defeat. 'I traipsed around in a white ball gown and stupid heels and gloves and there was a fan dance, and it was one of the most stupid things I've ever done. I don't know if you were in town then.' She frowns, trying to place the time, the month, the event to whether it was before or during that time when just looking at him made her skin tingle, her stomach itch. To her, most things seem to fall into 'pre-Jess' or 'during-Jess'. Pre-Jess stuff always seems so much more innocent, childish.

'I was here. I saw you, in the fluffy white dress.' He won't tell her she looked beautiful. She did, but he prefers her in jeans. Or better, pyjamas with unicorns on.

'And you didn't mock me?' She nudges him, acting aghast.

'No...not to your face anyway,' he smirks. She pouts. They kiss.

'I was thinking, if I'd been with you then, I probably wouldn't have done something so stupid, let myself be talked into it, because you wouldn't have been.'

'You never know,' he sounds sadder than he means to.

'You'd be my escort to a society event where you had to wear a tux?' She scoffs, and he doesn't know if he's hurt or relieved.

'Well, I've got to keep you guessing, don't I? Can't let you get bored.' _This girl can talk me into anything,_ he thinks,_ and I can't bear disappoint her_. That look of stunned pleasure is when she's most beautiful, he loves to put that look on her face. And that usually comes from him caving in to something. He would have fought, he would have reasoned, but he would have been there. Probably with his shirt unbuttoned and the fingers of his gloves cut off. But he would have been there if she wanted him.

She grins and snuggles closer, as if that's even possible at that point. 'I don't want you in a tux. They don't have back pockets. Where would you put your book?'

They sit silently and look out at the water, content that things are going to be okay. Her grandmother will hate him, he will hate her grandmother. Rory will not listen to either of them. Things will go on as before. Jess watches as a swan glides across the water in the darkness, serene and simplistic. Swans are calming, they're symbolic of what? Royalty? Rebirth? Purity? Do they mate for life?

'Pretty,' Rory says drowsily, entranced by the way the bird swishes back and forth, barely rippling the water.

'Yeah,' Jess is surprised. A bird's a bird. But he thinks this could be a good omen. Be graceful, Mariano, for once in your life. Be calm and collected in the face of great strain. Show a gentle strength, instead of going in kicking and punching. Be like a swan, non-violent, non-aggressive.

He helps Rory up and walks her home, depositing her safely through her window, before walking back to Luke's and sleeping soundly, comforted by images of white feathers, and suits with specially created book compartments.

It isn't until days later, after everything's gone to hell in a hand basket, and he's ruined a perfectly good ladle, that he remembers the meaning of the phrase 'Swan Song'.


End file.
